Just an arsonist that got carried away...

A billion anti-happiness promoters
to the kingdom of creation unborn
give me the key, you damn liar
made of bones
the end unknown
my heart cut in stone
cut this off
my corner is getting thin
as the slave-drivers whisper in ears
about the stormy sky
decisions undone
and a violent storm about to explode

help me
obey me
help me
pray for me
help me
get these important tasks done
i've still got so much on my list
give me the key, you torrid wretch!

made of bones

feel my touch already
wake to the brokenness of the dog
paste it to the wall
i hear it, hear the call
pushing the rain aside
can you hear it?
hear me?
i thought not
just leave me here and die
but first, give me the key
it's not yours

made of bones

a poet undefined,
unrequited
sits on the ground,
receives God's rain-shower
and lets the beat of the drum move him to write his words as he strokes his pen
send him away...
no one cares
he believes, but no one wants anything to do
to do with him
for him
in him

... a body and mind so beaten to the sticky and soaked ground
face peeled away,
no more skin
just his face, and what we were meant to see

gone
poet is gone
was a dying breed to begin with
lost
and the world-
now utterly and completely incomplete
doomed, we are

just his face,
and what we were mean to see
made of bones
heart cut in stone

fading away...
only bones